Italian Vacations

It’s a crime that in the past eighteen months, I haven’t blogged about Venice yet. Especially because it happens to be one of my favorite places on earth. Every time we come here, I make it a point to tell my husband that this isn’t my last trip to Venice. Because the idea of never crossing it’s bridges again, or wandering around this medieval labyrinth makes me sad. I will never, ever, ever be done visiting this place. But this post isn’t about my undying love for La Serenissima, I’ll bend your ear about that one later, I have too much to say. This post is about our trip just a few weeks ago during Carnevale, the festival leading up to Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras/Shrove Tuesday. Less raucous than Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Carnival in Rio, but just as iconic, and probably in the best setting, I’ll admit that as much as I wanted to go, this trip made me a little nervous. Whenever I brought it up people would go on about the crowded streets, the overflowing restaurants, over-priced hotels, pick pockets, etc. And part of me was ready to take their advice and skip it, but most of me was screaming that this is probably our last chance to attend Carnevale in Venice. I paid attention to the loud part, and I’m glad I did. The real party starts the last weekend of the festival and lasts through Fat Tuesday. We wanted to go the last weekend, but previously made plans prevented this, so for one night only, we went during the second weekend of the celebrations, which was nothing to complain about. One of the things I love best about Venice, is that there isn’t an ‘old town’ or a more scenic district. As soon as you exit the train station, you are on the grand canal, complete with boats and gondolas and palaces. The only sounds are the chatter of the crowd, the cry of the seagulls, and the splashing against the docks. You are immediately somewhere else; somewhere wholly unique. The entire city is worth seeing, and despite what some would have you believe, actually takes a while to see completely. This was our fourth trip and still we’ve only covered half, but we knew the drill. We walked directly to the vaporetto ticket counter and got two one hour passes for the #2 waterbus headed toward the Rialto Bridge, which was the closest stop to our hotel. (Tip: These buses can be confusing, do your research beforehand to know which stop and bus are best for you.) After a frigid yet beautiful cruise down the Grand Canal, a walk over the Rialto Bridge, and four freaking flights of stairs with luggage, we checked into our hotel and immediately sought food. A two minute walk from our hotel brought us to Antico Forno, the best pizza in Venice. So good and very reasonably priced. I had the spinach/ricotta/tomato with no regrets. No seating though, be prepared to eat where you stand. But thats typical of most pizza joints here. Now that we were fed we could concentrate on our plan: 1. Buy masks made in Venice. 2. Wear masks in public. 3. Celebrate. We’re simple people. Masks are the main theme of Carnevale in Venice. Different masks have different meanings and uses. Some of them are modern creations, some of theme were strictly for medical and theatrical use, but today there really aren’t any rules about which one to wear. Kiosks selling masks, hats, capes, abound throughout the city this time of year, but we wanted to get the real deal, support the local artisans, etc. I did some internet research that left me confused, but it was our concierge that pointed us to Tragi Comica Venezia. There are too many choices here, which is why we spent nearly an hour trying on just about every mask. It was during this hour I realized I do not have a face for masks. Somehow I managed to avoid this revelation until now. But nothing was stopping me from joining in on the fun, so I got a mask with a large feather/tulle protrusion on the top that detracted from the unflattering angles below. My husband took the less-is-more approach and bought a plain leather mask with a tri-corn hat. The look was very colonial/bandit but it suited him. It turned out that Step 2 of our plan took some courage. Without even putting my mask on I immediately became self-conscious. Buying the mask was fun, but wearing it felt silly. It didn’t matter that the majority of people would be wearing masks and costumes. So we solved this like the grown-ups we are, with a trip to the nearest wine bar. By the second drink I was wearing my mask in the restaurant. Problem solved, we could cross item number two off the list. Despite our early apprehension, I really liked wearing my mask. I felt like I was part of the festivities instead of just an observer. Together with the rest of the confetti colored crowd we funneled ourselves into the crowded Piazza San Marco, the epicenter of the festivities. A center stage opposite St Mark’s Basilica, hosted flag throwers, costume contests, and acrobatic performances. The area in front of the stage is for ticket purchasers only who wish to have a seat, and sip some espresso. (I found this to be a bit elitist, and so did everyone else because these seats were mostly empty.) The majority of the riffraff (us) preferred to press ourselves along the perimeter for free. We were lured away to watch the parade that suddenly took over the square. I could never see anything, but the drums were loud. Then we decided to take time to admire the other costumes, and take in our gorgeous surroundings. I’m not sure anything beats Venice in the evening. The level of time and detail some people put into their costumes is staggering. The most elaborate are custom made whether they are commissioned or DIY. Nearly all of them are the traditional Venetian Golden Age style, some are completely out of context (smurfs), some are trying to win awards by following the year’s theme (this year was gastronomy). All are impressive and I wanted to keep taking more and more pictures, but as I mentioned earlier it was really cold and we still had an hour before dinner so we wandered to the nearest recommended wine bar, Teamo. Somehow this wine bar, (only about a 5-10 minute walk from St. Mark’s), manages to be both secluded and exceptionally priced. We sat in a comfortable booth, in a warm setting, with excellent service, with two spritz’s each and snacks for only sixteen euro. That’s a bargain anywhere in Italy, but a miracle in Venice. This is a town where a thirty euro Bellini is not unheard of. Go to Teamo, but you might want to make reservations because it’s tiny. We lucked out and got the last unreserved table. If apertivos are a challenge, then restaurant hunting can be a nightmare. I will go on record and say I don’t crave Venetian cuisine. I don’t hate it either, it’s just not the reason I come back. Just know that when visiting a real Venetian restaurant, you will eat a lot of seafood. And there may be tentacles and/or ink involved. After lots of trial and error, I think we’ve found our go-to restaurant in Venice, Ai Mercanti. Tucked away in a tiny campo off a main street, fantastic service, creative food, and always good. I really recommend this place. This time I had the shrimp with candied seaweed for the starter, cod ravioli in a spinach sauce for the primi, with duck for the secondi, and the chocolate interpretation for dessert. They also have fantastic wines, ask your waiter for recommendations. Everything is fresh, and the menu changes daily. This place never disappoints. We worked off the calories with a long walk through the city. It always surprises me how empty Venice is at night. Even during this huge festival most people just make a daytrip out of it, or stay in further out hotels. We meandered the lit streets, peeked around corners, and admired star-lit canals. This is a very safe city, so don’t be afraid to wander. But as beautiful as it was, it was also numbingly cold, so we were reluctantly back in our hotel by eleven. Our train left the next morning, so that was the end of our Carnevale experience. Part of me wishes we could have stayed longer or even changed our plans to align with the last weekend, but this was really the perfect dose, and we left on a high note which is always a good thing. If you find yourself near northern Italy in February you should definitely make this a priority. In our eighteen months here, our single night at Carnevale was definitely one of the highlights of our trip.

If this mess appeals to you, check-out the Facebook page here, or follow me on Twitter @100weeksinrome. I’m also on Pinterest here, if that’s your thing. I post extras there when I remember. Plus, its a minor goal to reach 100 likes, and I’m only 2 likes away. Not begging, but that would really make my day. Ciao!

An advantage to visiting San Marino is its proximity to so many other places worth seeing. San Leo, Gubbio, and Gradara are a few nearby stopping points that are worthy of any traveler, but on this visit we took the country roads south to the town of Urbino.

First, let’s talk about the region of Le Marche, because it seems to be a secret that everyone wants to keep to themselves.

Le Marche is located in central Italy, where it borders the Adriatic Sea to the East and the Apennine Mountains to the West. In English this area is usually referred to as the Marches, but I’m not sure if that is anglicizing the name or if it actually refers to the multiple provinces of the region. Le Marche is plural and refers to the traditional four provinces and the now five provinces of the area. On this trip we drove through the northern province of Urbino e Pesaro on our way to Urbino.

Unintentionally, our GPS wound us along hill top lanes that gave us spectacular views of spiky hills and verdant valleys, patched with fields of golds and greens and outlined with sparkling streams. Photos do not do it justice.

What I find special about this landscape is the remoteness of it. It has a terrain similar to Tuscany but without the congestion or careful cultivation that characterizes that region. (I’m definitely not discouraging Tuscany, it’s just different.) This area has a wildness and natural beauty that seems refreshing in a country that takes a lot of deserved pride in its manicured good looks.

Whenever we plan on visiting a town I don’t know much about, I always get a little sweaty when I think about parking. Will we be parallel parking on the street, if so will there be room? Is there an NTZ zone, if so will we have to park far outside of town? Do we have to use a parking garage, if so will they still be open when we get back? Which is why I always bring up the super boring issue of parking, because if you’re driving through Italy it’s a constant anxiety. So far we’ve been lucky. Usually we can find free or ticketed parking outside the city walls of wherever we’re going. And it turns out that Urbino has it all figured out with a parking garage on the north side of town complete with a small shopping mall and elevator that zips you up to the top of the town right outside the walls. Much easier than normal, and probably a way to make up for their lack of train station. The only way to get to here is by bus or car.

If you have heard of Urbino but can’t remember why, it’s probably because of this guy:

Federico III da Montefeltro or the Duke of Urbino was the ultimate Renaissance Man. He studied the classics, nurtured artists like Raphael’s father, advised Popes, ruled fairly, and hobnobbed in his palace with the likes of Machiavelli. But mostly he was a notoriously ruthless warlord. In his forty plus years of battle, he never lost a war. Cities would pay him to avoid conflict. Dynasties like the Sforzas and Medici’s regularly sought him out as their Condottiere, which literally means contractor but in this context is meant as Mercenary. And just to illustrate how hardcore he was just look at his unnatural profile. No one is born with a nose like that. Apparently he was blinded during a tournament. As a result he lost income because he was thought to be an assassination risk since he could not see on his right side. He solved this by having surgeons remove the bridge of his nose so his left eye could see to his right. His reputation was restored, but I’ve always wondered if this made him a mouth breather.

Anyway, Urbino is intact and much the way he left it in the late 1400s. Still a center for learning and higher education, just like it was when he was Duke. We were there in July, so school was out, which left the town pleasantly open and uncrowded. Perfect for afternoon strolling.

We got there around lunchtime, starving, and quickly found a perfect lunchtime spot at the outdoor restaurant Il Girarrosto.

We carbed out on flat bread, cheese, and homemade pasta.

I drank wine, and my husband drank a local amber ale (Italian beer is often under-rated), as we enjoyed the mild summer weather and international chatter in our small breezy piazza. Afterwards we saved room for gelato and continued our walk towards the the Palazzo Ducale.

Up Via Puccinotti…

…and arriving in Piazza Rinascimento.

For a full picture of the palace look here. The palace is huge, and very impressive from the backside, but lunch made us lazy and we didn’t want to descend the town and climb neighboring hills to get an all encompassing shot. So our experience was mostly from the inside.

If you’ve seen the duke’s portrait then you may also be familiar with the often copied courtyard designed by Piero della Francesca, a famous artist and mathematician from that period. Half of it was scaffolded when we were there, so I could only get this corner shot.

Once inside, it was immediately apparent, this place is literally a shell of what it used to be. There are clues with the half recovered frescoes, ornate mantels, wide corridors, and inlaid doors; but beyond the art displays that have been set-up the building is empty.

The large empty spaces are a bit haunting when you try to associate them with their past. The rooms, once filled with soldiers and nobles, music and art, are now quiet and empty with whitewashed walls and cold fireplaces. Not that it’s not worth seeing. One of the highlights was the duke’s studiolo or study, which is entirely covered in intricate wooden inlays.

We spent about an hour here, then it was time to get back in the car and return to our hours long trip back to Rome. One of the best parts about summer roadtrips are the sunflowers. Fields turn sunshine yellow in late June through early August with rowed audiences of these fat faced flowers . I tried over and over to get a good car shot to share. But I was constantly thwarted with a telephone pole, fence, or tree. Finally, a traffic jam kept the car still long enough so I could get this pic.

Worth the ten minutes of traffic. I don’t always recommend Italy during the summer, but I can’t deny that it has perks.

Summer travel in Italy can be bittersweet. The hilltowns are spilling over with festivals, the beaches are at their bikini best, the wineries are splashing out samples of their latest uncorked barrels, green fields turn canary yellow with the rotating heads of sunflowers, and the cities….umm….have you ever seen a beehive from a distance? Close enough to hear the buzz and see comings and goings, when you can admire the activity and the architecture of their civilization, but not feel anxious in their presence? That’s Rome between November and March. Have you ever seen a beehive after a bear has knocked it out of the tree, and stomped on it to get to the honey? The pissed off bees are loud, dangerous, everywhere and out for themselves. That’s Rome from April to October.

I’m exaggerating for emphasis, but really, try to ride a Roman bus in July and tell me you didn’t taste freedom the moment you un-pasted yourself from the damp tourists and stepped into the unrecycled air. I really do love this city, but the summer experience wears on you, which is why we try to spend most of our summer weekends elsewhere.

San Marino seemed like a poor choice in early July. Everything I had read seemed to be along the lines of “cool place, too crowded.” But who are we to take qualified advice seriously? We went anyway.

San Marino is a tiny country, completely surrounded by Italy and a few kilometers from Rimini on the Adriatic coast. The drive from Rome took a gorgeous four hours of mountains, lakes, and streams through the regions of Umbria, Tuscany, Le Marche, and Emilia Romagna. I was surprised when we were able to see San Marino in the distance about fifteen minutes before we actually got there.

After zig-zagging up the mountain we figured out the parking system, which was easy and available. We parked in lot 6, which is the highest a foreign vehicle can go, right outside the city walls and close our hotel. We stayed in Hotel Cesare, because it was the only hotel available in the city center when we booked the night before. I was initially miffed because we didn’t really have a choice, and I always convince myself in these situations that we must be getting the worst hotel. I was wrong. The view from our hotel room was the best view I have ever had from any room ever.

This pic turned out too bright, but we had a view high above mountains and villages that I will never forget.

It looked like all of Italy lay before us, and I made a mental note to not leave before taking a bath in the tub that had the same view of the valley. We congratulated ourselves on a room well picked like we had a choice, and hit the streets to join the hordes of fellow tourists. But we never found them. Maybe Rome has raised tolerance for crowds, but really the city was mainly dotted with small families and couples holding hands. No snarling tour groups or pushy photographers. Maybe the weekend of July 4th is the time to go. Maybe (read definitely) it was because of the world cup.

We strolled the perfectly maintained, graffiti free stone streets and wondered if this is really an authentic city or some sort medieval Disney test site. Founded in the year 301 by a stone mason seeking religious freedom, how does a 1700 year old city look so good?

After some back and forth we followed the main road upward to the top where the three defense towers of San Marino are situated over the shear drop of the mountain. If you are wondering how this petite country managed to avoid Italian citizenship for so long, it comes down to gravity.

The town wasn’t really valuable enough to spend resources seiging it, and taking it by force was nearly impossible, so neighboring city-states and the later unification movement didn’t bother when they refused to be absorbed. It wasn’t until the curious visitors from the nearby beaches of Rimini ascended that San Marino went from being a farming community to an investment, shopping, and tourism capital. With the highest male life expectancy of any country, one of the lowest un-employment rates in Europe, no national debt with a budget surplus, and above average per capita earnings. It helps that their population is around 32,000 people, and it’s interesting to note that there are more cars than people in San Marino.

And it’s hard not to think about gravity when perched on cantilevered balconies like this:

With views that look like this:

We climbed the tower and walked the ramparts of castle of Roco Guaita. Upon inspection, this castle looks like it was built very recently, and at the time I assumed it was just well taken care of. But a google search told me that Twentieth Century Fox rented the entire Republic of San Marino, including its people, in the 1940s to film Prince and Foxes starring Tyrone Power. They paid a rate of $40 a day and restored the castles and ramparts for their purposes, which explains why these castles are so perfect.

A bit of advice, if you plan on climbing all over the castle, and you should, wear sensible shoes and avoid dresses and skirts. I wore sandals and a dress, which made modesty difficult when climbing up ladders, however, no one was there to see up my dress so it worked out.

We stopped at a bar with a view, munched on prosciutto and sipped spritz’s. The cool summer breeze was welcome, especially in July. Then we headed down the shopping streets to Palazzo Pubblico to check out the sunset over the mountains. (Oddly there are a lot of weapon replica and model car shops here.)

We spoiled our dinner with some summer gelato and headed back to our room to relax before our mediocre dinner. I managed one more picture of the town before it went dark.

Just one day is enough for San Marino, and can be easily managed in a daytrip (not from Rome). In a wonderful way there is very little do, but a lot to see. Had we a bit more time, we could have made it the post office, where they will stamp your passport, but hindsight and all that. If you find yourself in the Le Marche or Emilia Romagna regions, make time, it’s a lovely to experience for yourself.

Our next day is part II of this post: Urbino and a drive through Le Marche.

Typing about this on a chilly January day makes me miss summer. Until next time, Ciao!

Inquire about where the best place to see Christmas in Italy and many will enthusiastically tell you “Rome, it’s where the celebration started!” Or, “Naples, where they have the most elaborate nativity scenes!” And mostly, “Bolzano, where they have the best Christmas Markets!” Of course, I’m leaving a lot of others out like Perugia, Turin, etc, but you get the point.

Since this was our second and last Christmas in Rome we wanted to get another sample of what another Italian town is like during the holidays. As I said, Bolzano is the popular choice, plus we haven’t been to the Dolomites yet. Unfortunately, the idea tanked when we discovered the trains coming back to Rome were completely booked. So if you ever plan on going to Bolzano during the holidays, book well in advance. Our next thought was Naples, but a friend who had visited the weekend before said the crowds in the historic center were stacked like bowling pins. No grazie, we’ll try another time. But the solution was easy. Orvieto. An immaculate medieval city perched on a hill overlooking the Umbrian countryside. Only a ninety minute drive north (also accessible by train), easy parking, fantastic food, gorgeous architecture, unique shopping, perfect, perfect, perfect.

I have tried and failed to visit Orvieto twice before. The first time, I blame the weather. A cloudy day turned into a monsoon the moment we parked the car. We ducked into a restaurant and tried to wait the storm out during lunch. After a few hours we cut our losses and headed back home. The second time was last spring when I managed to injure myself the night before, so I had to send my husband and guests to go without me. I’m glad they had a nice time, but seeing their pictures and hearing about their handmade pasta made me a little huffy. Hopefully you guys don’t feel that way about me.

This time though, this was my time. All muscles and bones were in working order. I checked three different websites to confirm the weather would be cloudy, but not rainy. The camera was charged and complete with memory card. All gloves, hats, scarves, and coats were in place. Orvieto would not win this time, and things finally went as planned.

A bit of Orvieto history: On the surface this is a Medieval/Renaissance town. But its history actually goes back to Etruscan times, when it was the political and religious capital for hundreds of years. Because it’s surrounded with sheer cliffs and able to sustain itself through wells and storage, it took the Romans two bloody years to conquer the city. Once conquered, it was flattened and used as a trading post until the fall of the empire. Orvieto later entered it’s golden age during the middle ages when it became a wealthy trading center and a favorite escape for Popes. The Popes of this era rewareded the city by building palaces, monuments, fountains, and the famous Duomo, which is the masterpiece of the town. There was even some talk in the mid-1500s about moving the Papacy to this location permanently. Obviously, that didn’t happen.

Since we arrived around lunchtime we began our day with lunch at Trattoria del Moro, near the center of the town. Orvieto is part of the CittaSlow, or Slowfood movement. Which basically means they have pledged to keep things traditional, make food with regional ingredients, and do their best to maintain their heritage. I’m not saying that every restaurant and shop in Orvieto is authentic and worth your money, but a CittaSlow certification does mean that the city expects certain standards, which only benefits us travelers.

Happily, I can report back that Orvieto does not disappoint. We had a lovely long lunch of Pappardelle alla Cinghiale (wild boar ragu, my favorite pasta dish), wine, and some the best tiramisu we’ve had yet. Lunch alone is worth the trip here.

After lunch we wondered the chilly December streets, and window shopped where we could since most of the shops were closed for the afternoon. We noted the places where it looked like the night markets were setting up, and where to come back to later in the afternoon, and made our way to Piazza del Duomo so I could finally set my eyes on the Cathedral that I tried to see twice before. Worth it.

I love Italy in all seasons, but from a tourist’s perspective, I really love Italy during the winter. It’s cold and rainy, but tour buses and cruises usually don’t bother this time of year, which decreases the crowds exponentially. I could never takethis picture of a famous cathedral during April-October:

The cathedral was commissioned and begun in 1290 by the Pope, during an era when Popes would spend most of their time in Orvieto. It took three hundred years, and thirty three architects to complete, which was average for the time. The result is stunning, with solid gold mosaics, thousands of frescoes, stained glass windows, and marble carvings in every color. The cathedral in Siena is still my favorite, but this one is definitely in my top five.

Detail at the Apse of the Cathedral

Nave

It looks like areas along the nave used to be covered in frescoes. I don’t know why they are so damaged, but I find what is remaining fascinating. They really put the origins of the cathedral into context. A time when the templar knights were a reality and not a memory.

If you ever visit do not miss the frescoes in the transcepts. Pictures are not allowed here, or else I would show you. These side rooms are gorgeous yet cautionary with huge gory frescoes of purgatory. I’m not sure what it says about me, but I always find art depicting damnation interesting.

Just one more shot of the front. The detail is incredible.

While there was still daylight we walked to one of the overlooks about a hundred yards to the right of the cathedral. From here we could see some of the castles that were set up for defense during more violent times.

We meditated on one of the benches and somehow began planning our next trip. There are several places I’d like to see that we didn’t get a chance to on this trip. Like the labyrinth of Etruscan tunnels underneath the city. Tours leave several times a day and can be inquired about at the ticket office in front of the Duomo. We also really want to see Pozzo di San Patrizio. It’s really just a well, but during the Renaissance they commissioned two double helix stairways that never intersect to spiral up and down the well to accommodate one-way traffic. Before you roll your eyes at me, take a look at the pictures, they’re impressive. The Pope’s palace, and several restaurants also made the list. But that is for next time, this time we were here to experience Orvieto the weekend before Christmas, and the shops were finally opening up again.

We began on the “Street of the Artisans” officially known as Via dei Magoni, not far from the Duomo. Need a handwoven wrap for grandma, a painting for your sister, a puppet for your nephew, or a set of olive wood bowls for your mom, this street will take care of that. I may have left with my own olive wood bowl that is now proudly displaying clementines on my kitchen table.

Now that the sun was almost down the evening Passeggiatahad begun. We joined in and strolled the streets like locals. This was the real reason for our visit.

CittaSlow Christmas market complete with chestnuts roasting over an open fire.

This market sprang up out of nowhere. Selling everything from handmade wooden ornaments to jewelry to leather bags.

After we reached the opposite end of town we turned around made our way down Corso Cavour, a pedestrian road that runs right down the center of town. We continued our browsing, and picked up a few more future birthday gifts (our Christmas shopping was done and it was way too late to ship anything back home), stopped for an appertivo, and pointed out things to each other that we really could live without.

Once the shops began closing, we chose to head back to the parking lot. Another meal was tempting, but we were still full from our late lunch and happy to leave it there. Our trip was a success. We saw a beautiful Italian hilltown during the Christmas Season, and best of all we left feeling relaxed and not frazzled. Not once did we have to wait in line, or push through a crowd, or deal with a trains/planes/or traffic. Plus we know we are coming back, so there wasn’t that bittersweet silent farewell moment we usually have when we leave a city. I will miss the Christmas lights though, the streets will seem a little bare without them next time.

If you find yourself looking for a daytrip outside of Rome, or a stop between Rome and Florence, I highly recommend Orvieto. It doesn’t disappoint.

Buon Natale!

If you like this mess then you may want to take a moment and like my facebook page here, or follow me on twitter @100weeksinrome. I broadcast updates there and sometimes add additional content when I remember to. I am also trying to get my photos up on pinterest here, it’s a slow process but I’m getting there.

Meet Mary, a student and writer living in Milan. If you’ve been paying attention, you may remember my own brief trip to Milan over the summer. Mary recently offered to write an insider’s perspective of Italy’s most fashionable city and I was thrilled to accept. Enjoy!

Everybody knows the obvious stops to make in Milan: visiting the Duomo, the painting of the last supper, going on a shopping tour (or at least doing some window-shopping) including the famous luxury store “La Rinascente” and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, seeing the famous opera house called “Scala”, and wandering the canals of the Navigli district.

Many locals like to enjoy the atmosphere of the little Navigli district after work, which feels a little bit like being in Venice. Decades ago, one could see a lot more of these canals, being a rapid way for delivering goods and getting around in the city. Nowadays, they were substituted with asphalt, cars and bigger streets. it’s truly a pity… However, if you want to have an aperitivo, the Navigli district is one of the best locations in the town, you will find a lot of nice and stylish bars here!

Milan for design victims

In general, being a city located in the north of Italy with lower temperatures, Milano has developed a special beauty INSIDE its buildings – if you are a fan of interior design, this city should be worth a visit. Not many people know the building called “bosco verticale” (vertical forest) near the station of Porta Garibaldi that won several design prizes. It consists of two higher apartment buildings, with each floor completely surrounded with balconies with real trees, so that the buildings seem completely green from outside and give an appearance of a real vertical forest. Stefano Boeri is the architect of this project, and here is the link to his site where you can find more information regarding this innovative architectural creation. A fact nearly nobody knows: beneath the buildings you can find the HQ of Google Italy.

Old Duke Sforza’s Castle

One of the most interesting and relaxing afternoons you can spend in Milan is strolling around the Castello Sforzesco. Many tourists usually don’t bother to visit it inside, but I can tell you that it’s really worth the money. When arriving there, you will notice its imposing structure and beautiful garden. The structure that one can see today was built by the Duke of Milan Francesco Sforza on the remains of the previous fortification in the 15th century. It was enlarged later on, making it one of the biggest citadels in Europe. It is a huge quadrangular fortress surrounded by a moat with large towers and complete with a magnificent drawbridge.

The fountain at the entrance of Castello Sforzesco

It is free to enter the grounds of the structure, but the museums located within have a fee. In the upper floor of the museum you will be able to gaze at amazing frescos, murals, carvings and sculptures all from the time then the castle was used to protect the city.

beautiful arcs of Castello Sforzesco

fresco inside of the castle

You can also visit the Museum of Ancient Art, which houses Michelangelo’s sculpture Rondanini Pietà that was the last one he ever created. Here is the link to the castle’s official site.

The “Original” Campari bar

As you might know, Campari is a drink invented in Italy. In fact, it was invented in Novara (near Milan), and in 1915 its inventor Davide Campari opened the first Campari Bar. Where? In Milan, of course, at the famous Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. The bar is called “Camparino“, and if you want to try the authentic Italian Campari, you should go there. Re-opened in 2013, the bar offers some of the best Negroni you will ever find. That’s a real insider’s tip – so cheers! Here is the link to the bar, with the pictures of the bar and the event list. The place is situated under the arch, you can find it on the left of the big arch of the gallery.

The Brera District

Last but not least! You may have noticed that Milan is not a typical Italian city many tourists imagine it to be – with small streets and laundry drying on the lines across the streets, but there is one little district in Milan called Brera, which has the atmosphere of a more traditional Italy. Milanese love to go there in the evenings, as the area hosts a huge number of little restaurants and bars. You can also find shops with local food, bookshops, and shops of upcoming designers. Everything here just seems a little bit more “normal”… and this is what we appreciate!

The last comment to finish my article: pay attention to when you visit Milan. There are lots of fairs taking place in the city, and also if it seems to be a big city – it isn’t really. To avoid paying too much for your accommodation, I suggest you to check the prices on sites such as the Italian Venere.com, permitting to compare the various solutions. A nice and safe area where one can stay in Milan, in my opinion, is located near the metro stations Porta Venezia and Lima. This area has another convenient aspect: here you will find one of the most famous streets of Milan for a nice AND affordable shopping tour, called Corso Venezia! In this neighborhood you can also find some of the few remaining old trams – try them, they are really nice, both inside and out.

I know I talk a lot about Italian cultural diversity, but let me repeat myself. Northern Italy is very different from southern Italy, and nowhere is that more obvious than on a visit to Milan. Earlier this summer we hopped an evening train headed north, our only premeditated action was booking our hotel, otherwise we were completely disorganized. We had two goals in mind: One, sleep in; Two, see Milan.
Immediately upon exiting the train station it was obvious that Milan is different. We stood in a city that on the surface seemed to have more in common with London than with Rome. Though scattered baroque architecture and the faint aroma of espresso proved the city thoroughly Italian; skyscrappers, cycling lanes, and fashion forward citizens let us know that this city was yet another type of Italy. Milan is home to the Italian stock exchange, a world leader in modern fashion and design, and one of the industrial centers of Europe. But beyond appearances, there was an energy there that I hadn’t found elsewhere in our Italian travels. An abstract sense of ambition and creative energy that I don’t always see in my city, which is more a center of government and tourism. Not that I’m saying one is better than the other – I’m not going there – but again, they are different.
The next day, after checking off our first priority, ‘Sleeping In’, we set out towards the city center. As I said earlier, we didn’t have a plan. We just wanted to get a sense of Milan, so we headed for the main sight, the Milan Cathedral or Duomo di Milano.
If you see anything in Milan, it should be this. And I’m not the only person who feels that way, there were a lot of tourist with full sets of luggage in front of the Cathedral who were there either as a stop-over either between, before, or after their main destinations. As the fifth largest cathedral in the world that took nearly six hundred years to complete, it’s a sight worth seeing.
A short history: The Duomo was commissioned in the late 1300s by the powerful and wealthy of Milan in an attempt to keep up appearances with their Northern European neighbors. The Renaissance hadn’t happened quite yet, so the style of the day called for late gothic. Half the cathedral was built within a few decades but work stopped for a few generations and then started up again in a new era. This time the Renaissance was in full swing, and the original gothic style seemed old and foreign, so they tried to change it mid-way for something more modern and Italian. This flip-flopping of styles went back and forth for a few more centuries which kind of created an odd criss-cross of styles and workmanship and then stopped again in the 1700s. Later in the 1800s, Napoleon chose the Duomo as the place he wanted to be crowned king of Italy and promised to pay for finishing the façade (he never paid). By now the Romantic era had begun and people liked the Gothic style again, so they re-embraced the original designs, made them more elaborate and tried to make them merge with the existing half finished Renaissance façade. Officially the church was not finished until 1965, when the last gate was added.
The reviews for the church have always been mixed. At first glance it is undisputedly impressive, on closer inspection…yeah, I’m not a purist but the mixing of classical elements with gothic details is not exactly successful, and sometimes feels awkward. But it’s still pretty.
It’s free to enter the Duomo, like most Catholic churches, but if you want to take pictures you need to pay the two euro fee and get a wrist band. Don’t be cheap, fees go toward the restoration, which it badly needs, and they do stop people without wristbands from taking pictures.
Picture: Interior 1 “See the light grey column, this is the color the interior should be after restoration is finished.”
The interior is dark, much darker than I expected it to be, and massive.
You can’t have a big church without having some big relics. Suspended high above the altar, marked by a bright red light, is one of the nails that crucified Christ. If I did not know about it beforehand, I probably would have dismissed it as a security feature.

See the tiny red light at the top?

To me though, the most interesting and unusual work of art was the sculpture of Saint Bartholomew Flayed (1562) by Marco d’Agrate, a student of Leonardo Di Vinci’s. It’s gruesome, and so impressive. At first glance, it looks like he is wearing a simple cloth, but on closer inspection you can tell he is actually draping his own skin around him. It’s ironic the church even displayed this statue considering it is the result of then illegal human anatomy lessons, banned by the church itself.
Though the interior is interesting, it is not exactly worth the trip. The real thrills are on the roof. I recommend making your way to the box office which is on the right exterior side of the cathedral and buying tickets to either take the stairs or the elevator to the top. I’m lazy so we paid the extra euros for the elevator. The entrance for both the stairs and the elevator is on the back of the cathedral, basically the furthest possible point from the box office. I think they do this so you’ll buy tickets without seeing how long the line is. But in my case there were only a few people in line.
Even though we were only a few weeks into a fairly mild summer, this particular day was the kind that Italy is famous for. So humid and stagnant you instantly feel gross, with a sun so intense you dream of neck flap safari hats (because appearances are now secondary), and heat so real you swear you can hear your skin crackle. It was a non-issue inside the cathedral, because it takes forever for those big stone buildings to get hot, but on that searing white roof, it was bad. So why did we stay up there? Because it looked like this:

I was expecting a flat-ish roof with good views, maybe a few close ups of gargoyles, and some antennas I would choose not to look at. But what I actually found was a sort of stone garden decorating a labyrinth of hallways and stairways that wound around the cathedral and showcased details that couldn’t possibly be seen from below.

Staircase up to the tallest highest portion of the roof.

Highest part of roof.

And the view isn’t bad either. I find it interesting that these same statue-tipped spires, though only about two hundred years old in most cases, have looked on during the Coronation of Napoleon, the unification of Italy, World War I, Mussolini’s regime, the city’s massive destruction during World War II, and the re-building of the modern city that is today.
We couldn’t take it anymore so we exited this outdoor tourist hotplate and went in search for food. I felt like being difficult, which meant no pasta, no pizza, nothing cheesy or hot. After losing roughly half my body weight on the roof I needed something that counted as nutrition. We wondered the nearby streets for a little while when I saw a bright orange elevator that basically read, ‘this way to the food court,’ on the side of a building. This sounded air-conditioned, so we stepped inside the mysterious lone elevator and pressed the only button. It swept us up to the top floor of what we realized was actually Rinascente, an Italian luxury department store that is across the street from the Duomo.
If I didn’t live in Italy I would say that is an excellent place to buy your olive oil and biscuit souvenirs, and it is, but it’s also a luxury brand so beware of the prices. The drawl here is the terrace overlooking the piazza, and the half dozen restaurants that offer everything from sushi, to burgers, to pasta, to kobe beef. But I feel the real gem is the modest counter in the center that prepares fresh juices and gorgeous salads. I wanted to eat food that my body would thank me for, and this fit the bill.

Tremendously cooled-off, and much less grumpy we briefly explored Rinascente. It’s not an exotic brand, think of it as Italy’s Nordstrom’s. I know there are at least three in Rome, and I shop there myself for certain items. Therefore, it didn’t bring any surprises for us, but if you’re looking for a one stop shop for mid to high-end Italian brand stuff, you may be able to save yourself some blisters find it here.
We continued our ‘see Milan’ project by walking next door to the Galleria.
It’s hard to miss, just walk through the colossal arch next to the Duomo and into the glass enclosed street. There isn’t much to say about this place except that it’s pretty, smaller than I thought, and one of the most expensive shopping districts in the world. It’s nice to window shop.
We grabbed our afternoon gelato at Savini under the dome and people watched next to one of the Prada stores. We couldn’t figure out why people were enthusiastically spinning under the dome and taking selfies. After a quick google search, it turns out it has something to do with the testicles of a mosaic bull. Back in 1877, during the completion of the Galleria, the leader of the project tragically fell off the scaffolding just weeks before completion. Supposedly the bull marks the general area where he died. Since that time, people have been convinced to place their heels in the bulls groin and spin backwards three times to ward off evil spirits. This is done so much that this area of bull has to be replaced once every four years. We didn’t participate, but we enjoyed watching the people that did.
So where are my last supper pictures? We didn’t go. Infact, if you must see Leonardo di Vinci’s Last Supper book your tickets a minimum of one month in advance. They only sell a limited number of tickets per day, many of which are reserved by large tours. With only a week before our trip we tried to simply join a tour but those were booked up as well. While we were there we heard of last-minute tickets sometimes being available in case the tours have no-shows or someone doesn’t show up for their ticket time. Standby tickets are not a guarantee, and you could be waiting around for nothing. For us, seeing or not seeing the Last Supper didn’t make or break our trip, so we didn’t pursue it further.
That night, which was really our only night since we had gotten in late the night before, we wanted to do something different. So we headed toward one of the few places where a bit of the old Milan still exist, the Canal District, Navigli District.
Up until about a century ago, Milan had a good sized network of canals to move goods around the city. All but this one were filled-in in favor of streets. This area isn’t a secret, is seems most of the younger population spends their evenings here, but it manages to be fun despite the crowd. Re-furbished canal boats host mini soccer tournaments and promote mini-coopers, various bars and hosterias line the streets, and the people watching in the evening is among the best. The major draw-back of enjoying a summer evening on a canal are the MONSTER mosquitos. We didn’t have any repellant with us, but the Milanese are prepared, and our server brought incense to fend them off. This was probably my favorite place in Milan, if you have the time, you should swing by.
Like all of our trips I was a little sad to leave the next morning. When we got to the train station I noticed “Expo 2015” propaganda everywhere, and looked them up to pass time. Afterwards I immediately felt better, because I knew we would be returning to Milan sometime between May and October of next year. If you don’t already know about it let me explain: This is the World Exposition for Arts and Technology, or otherwise known as the World’s Fair, or World’s Exposition. The telephone, Eiffel tower, electric car, and waffle cone, among many other things, were all premiered at the world’s fair. Countries from around the world build elaborate temporary pavilions that showcase achievements and advances in art and technology that are designed to make our lives better. I want to go for the architecture alone, seriously, look it up. I cannot wait!
Like I said before, Milan is different. Whereas so many other cities worth seeing in Italy are centered around history, preservation, and tourism; Milan is a city that is still writing it’s story and creating it’s future. It’s exciting to see.

Some trips we plan months in advance. We pinpoint the dates on the calendar, gather and compare hotels, pour over forums for the best ways to spend our time, and shop for just the right gear to bring. Few of our Italian trips get this treatment. Lately I’ve been trying to be better, but it seems that many of our overnighters involve this formula: (Friday-night + holiday)wine + ipad = roadtrip. So on the first weekend of June we found ourselves armed with all of the variables and booked ourselves a few nights in the Tuscan Island of Elba (of Napoleonic fame).
Elba is not the easiest to get to. There are no non-stop trains, cheap flights, or toll bridges to get you there. The path of least resistance is to take a car/train to Piombino on the coast, then board an hour long ferry to the island, and then drive to your booked destination from whichever of the three ports you were dropped off at. It goes without saying, but driving involves the least amount of hassle.
Unless traveling during July or August I wouldn’t bother booking the ferry in advance. We were unexpectedly stuck in traffic in the middle of nowhere. The wasted time could have made us miss our ferry if we would have booked beforehand. Another confusing element was where to buy the tickets. As soon as we entered the city limits official looking signs were pointing in all directions to buy ferry tickets at various agencies/gas stations/tabacchis. We waited and bought tickets at the small strip mall outside the port gates that comprised entirely of ticketing agents. I don’t think it matters which one you choose. Prices vary based on time of day and year, but in our case a roundtrip ferry ticket to Elba including a standard sized car and two adults is about two hundred euros. We didn’t love the price, but we were both a little overexcited to ride on a boat.
After a chilly windblown ride where we were too stubborn to go inside, we drove out of the ferry and into the town of Portoferraio.
I wonder what Napoleon thought when they exiled him here. I’m no megalomaniac but this hardly seems like punishment. Fresh ocean breezes, clear emerald waters, rocky mountains, smiling locals; it’s enough to make one weigh the pros and cons of becoming a beach bum. And though neither of us has made a career change, bumming on the beach and staring at the horizon happened to be the glorious theme of our trip.
Last minute booking discounts meant we scored a fantastic deal for Villa Ottone, a five star resort with ocean views, private beach, excellent restaurant, delightful staff, and just a ten minute drive from the port. If you find yourself in the area in low or mid season, or if you just want to treat yourself in high season, definitely check this place out. (A tip if you do stay here: Go for the cottage rooms instead of the rooms in the main hotel. You have a huge patio and a chance for an ocean view.) We lucked out and got a room with a view.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on our patio and sipping limoncello, which is supposed to be an after dinner drink but we were feeling rebellious. We toyed with the idea of driving to town for dinner, but decided to keep it simple for once and go to the hotel restaurant. The only downside is that it looked rather fancy, which isn’t our normal speed but we have learned to bring sport coats and dresses on trips for just this reason. And it was worth dressing up.
I won’t go into every course and glass of wine, but we were extremely impressed with both the food and the staff. Both nights we dined here we had fresh five course meals (menu changes daily), that included things like gnocchi in a duck ragu, seafood risotto, steak tartar, and the dreamiest panna cotta I’ve had yet.
So yeah, we ate too much. But if we’ve learned anything from the Italians it’s the importance of after dinner drinks for just this occasion. Uncomfortably full, we meandered to the actual villa portion of Villa Ottone where they keep a bar with a stunning view.
We sat on the patio and watched the last of the sunset turn into a starry sky, wondering how we could start our day in traffic and packing chaos, and end it listening to the tide and pointing out constellations.
We tried to stick to our main goal of doing nothing while on this trip, but we were too curious to see what was beyond our little bay and went on an impromptu roadtrip.
Elba, which is the third largest island in Italy, is shaped like a fish. We were on the north side near Portoferraio, and conveniently near the main road that follows the coast around the island. The center and western side of the island is dominated by mountains, the north side is rockier with lots of cliffs, the south side is less rocky and has sandy beaches. We could see it all in a few hours of gorgeous views, plus my husband got to drive on windy roads which happen to be his favorite.
We passed several signs indicating directions to Napoleon’s residence and decided to detour a little and see where the little guy spent his time. Don’t do this, there is nothing to see except a small flea market, and a nice villa that has been converted into a hotel. Time is much better spent gawking at these views.
Between the views our car wove around tiny mountain villages and windy seaside towns with glowing turquoise shores. All of them looked too perfect, elegant yet casual, something that only islands seem capable of achieving.

View of Marciana from Poggio

Poggio

Zanca

Fetovaia Beach

Something we didn’t do that would be worth saving up for is hiring a boat. Local boat companies pick clients up at their hotel if it has a dock, or in town, and take them to private sandy nooks with supplies. All over the island we saw small groups set up on idyllic beaches with no road access, and boats parked in the near distance. Like in the photo below, can you see the tiny umbrella and the couple of people-dots hanging out on their own private beach, does it get better than that?

Cove near Cavoli

We decided to skip the fish tail part of the island and go back to the hotel for lunch. Afterwards we suited up and joined everyone else at the beach.
My only complaint about Portoferraio is the lack of sand. The rocks really hurt your feet, definitely keep your flip flops nearby. We spent the rest of the day doing what beach goers do – sunbathing, swimming, reading, etc. This day also marked the first time I swam in the Mediterranean, all previous attempts had been far too cold, but the shallow waters this time were more refreshing than they were bone chilling.
When our minds wandered we fed the local ducks, and I started a sea glass collection. Nothing mind-blowing but the entire afternoon was incredibly relaxing.
That night we followed the same pattern as the day before, because there was no reason to mess with perfection.
The following morning was our last. We checked out at the last possible minute and drove back to the docks after a quick pottery detour. After boarding the ship we posted ourselves on the side deck to get our last look at the island.
This whole last minute trip surprised us. A place that we hadn’t given much thought to previously turned out to be one of our favorite places yet. We only spent two nights there, and we didn’t really set out to get to know the island, but what we found was a profoundly peaceful, unspoilt and friendly region that feels a few shades more laid back than the main land. As our time here gets shorter I know that most places we visit we will probably never see again, but I encourage everyone else to try out Elba if you get the chance, and then tell me all about it.
Until next time, ciao!

“Can you pull over here?”
Two minutes later, “Stop up ahead.”
Not long after that, camera at the ready, “Try to drive really slowly through this town.”
Later that evening on a different road, “Mom look at that, it’s so beautif – you can’t look, eyes on the road!”
I’m not proud of it, but for a lot of scaredy cat reasons I haven’t driven since we moved here. Leaving my husband as the driver, and me with navigation and photography duties. This arrangement usually works pretty well on most trips, but this wasn’t just any trip. We were approaching Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast, a place where the views were so beautiful they shouldn’t exist in real life. Turning me from pleasant road companion into director of cinematography. But my mania was justified. This is a place where mountain cliffs rise out of a shimmering teal water, lemon groves and flowers scale the landscape, and fruit tinted houses are precariously perched on mountain ledges.

My mother and I had just gotten back from our little Paris trip a few nights earlier and used the following day to relax around the neighborhood and run errands. After a quick look at a beautiful weekend forecast and news of a city wide protest over something or rather, the three of us decided to ditch town and drive south to the Amalfi for the weekend. We tried to book something in Positano but quickly found that it was for the most part booked and what was available was overpriced and unpleasant looking. We ended up booking Hotel Delfino in the small adorable town of Massa Lubrense.
Unlike most hotels that hug the highway, this one meanders away from the road so the only sounds are birds and waves. Though the rooms could use a little updating, you don’t come here for the decor, you book this hotel for the view. This is why you come to the Amalfi Coast.
Pay the extra euros for the sea view, it’s worth it.
May was a chilly month, and so we were excited for the forecasted seventy degree weather. But the ocean breeze was so cold I had to put a scarf on, a jacket would have been nice too. That didn’t stop us from lounging in the chases all bundled up in front of the view like vacationing snowmen. We sipped wine and studied the cliffs and island of Capri, which was right in front of us. This lasted for a few glorious hours.
Eventually we had to eat, and though the hotel restaurant looked nice, they also required formal attire, which wasn’t happening, so we made plans to go see Positano after all and stay for dinner.
I have been told that a drive along the Amalfi coast takes courage. Both for the driver and the passenger. As a passenger I have experienced far scarier roads, like Independence Pass in Colorado, I actually screamed on that drive and I don’t scream except when I think I’m about to die. I didn’t scream on this drive, but I could see how some people might, especially if they were taking it by bus which would feel much more precarious. The way it was described I expected sheer cliff drops, no rails, and bodies of less cautious drivers floating in the ocean. But there was some distance between the road and the cliff edge, and there was always either a short wall or guardrail, so overall I felt safe. From a driving perspective my husband/driver found it to be a fun challenge. Fair warning though, the road follows the jagged edge of the coast so it can be a bit of stomach turner. But who cares about a few cramps when you have views like these.
Positano looks very different when seeing it from the top. The town is actually wider than it appears on photos, and the top part is much more modern than the charming Positano you see on tv. If it wasn’t for the signs we would have questioned if we were there yet. From the main highway you exit onto a one way road that zig-zags back and forth lower and lower. Parking is towards the top of the town, so don’t expect to find any near the beach. We lucked out and found street parking about three tiers down. During peak season, I would imagine parking to be near impossible and I would stress making sure you reserve a hotel with parking and make sure they know you are coming with a car.
On our walk down to the city center, we found ourselves quietly disappointed. The first stretch of our walk was made of touristy shops, business fronts for guided tours, and restaurants that sat right on the main road with cars passing close enough to touch from your table. We didn’t fray our nerves on the highway just to dine in a place that had all the charm of a parking lot so we pressed on. Thankfully, further down, Positano suddenly regained it’s reputation.
This was the Positano everyone wouldn’t shut up about, and it was spectacular. The whole town is structured like a hanging garden with flowering vines cascading down sun bleached buildings. We considered walking all the way down to the beach, which still wasn’t close, but we came across a terrace at a restaurant called Il Capitano that was too good to pass up.
This was why we drove to Positano. There aren’t many places in the world where you have dinner with a view like this.
We ate sea food and drank good wine while we watched the town light up and dusk turn into night.
Half of the next day was spent laying out and worshipping the view again until check-out. All vacations should allow time for nothing except looking at something pretty while sitting still. We debated spending the afternoon in Sorrento or another small town, but in the end we decided to be cultured and see Herculaneum.
Herculaneum is an excavation of a Roman town that was destroyed during the same volcano blast that buried Pompeii. My mother and I had seen Pompeii before, and it’s something everyone should see, but it’s huge and needs at least a day. Herculaneum is way more manageable as a side trip, but getting there isn’t that easy since it’s buried within a questionable neighborhood in Naples (or maybe all neighborhoods in Naples look like this, I haven’t found a nice one yet.) There are also few signs unless you are right next to it. So if you don’t have complete confidence in your GPS or map reading, you definitely need to join a tour or else you may never find it. There is also a parking garage onsite, I do not recommend parking on the street.
We thought we would have lunch when we got there because it’s Naples and despite its faults, the food is legendary. But once we got there we only found a pizza place that was next to the parking lot. It didn’t look like much so we kept our hopes in check and prepared to be ripped off.
Then I felt like a jerk, because the opposite happened, we had the best pizza we have had in Italy so far, for a very reasonable price.

Pizza Marinara, which had surprise anchovies. I don’t care for anchovies but the pizza was so good I forgave them.

My first reaction should have been joy, but instead it was annoyance. Why couldn’t we get pizza like this in our neighborhood. Rome, I love you, but your precious pizza rustica sucks. I’ve tried to get a taste for Roman pizza, but this shack in nowhere Naples was so much better than any pizza I’ve had since we moved here. I just don’t understand how the Romans, who are only two hours north of Naples, can have such a thin and bland pizza when they are clearly aware that it can be made better, and stubbornly argue that their version is an improvement. Come to Naples to eat pizza.
Finally, we made it to Herculaneum, and descended into the site, which is now below ground level. Walking the streets of something like this is always surreal. You’re walking on cobbled streets and ducking under doorways that were part of an ancient Roman’s life two thousand years ago. You see the tiles they stepped on and the artwork they commissioned, the tables they worked at, and the atriums where they greeted their guests.
At the same time, it’s easy to view these places as a bunch of roofless stone rooms that look nearly identical. But I’ve found to appreciate ruins, you can’t just look at what they are now, but appreciate what they witnessed and the miracle that they still exist to tell the story of those who lived in and built them.
It was a hot day, especially in the ruins because they were too low to catch the breeze from the bay. We were ready to leave when we found out the site museum was closed, so we ended our trip there and loaded back into the car to head back home. This time I tucked away my camera and reverted to my role as laid back navigator.
This is not our last trip to the Amalfi, but possibly our last trip until the tourist season dies down a little. (We’re lazy bookers and the good places are either gone or over-priced last minute.) If you get the chance never turn down an opportunity to see this area, even if it’s only for a short time. Our trip was only a day and half and look at all we got to see.
Ciao!

Whenever I ask my husband, “mountains or ocean?” for daytrips or weekends, with unwavering certainty he always says, “Ocean.” But with the great floods of fall 2013/winter 2014, the likeliness of winter fogs even when it wasn’t raining, plus most seaside villages being all but closed in the cooler months, going to the beach really wasn’t much of an option until recently. So finally, after living for over seven months in a country with approximately 7,600 km of coastline, we finally went to the beach.
After a bit of research and asking around about the best seaside destination in daytrip distance, we chose Sperlonga, not the closest beach, but definitely the closest nice beach. The recent warmer weather was a plus, but it was also Mother’s Day, and my wonderful mother had just flown in to visit for the next few weeks, so this was definitely going to be an ocean day.
There are two ways to get to Sperlonga. The first way is driving, which is fairly straight forward. There are a few parking garages and parking lots in the main town, plus additional parking at the beaches. The other way is to take a train from Rome to Fondi-Sperlonga, then take a bus to Sperlonga. It took about two hours by car, on the longer side for a daytrip, but it was soooo worth it.
Once we got there, we found that Sperlonga has three distinct areas. The original village, pictured above. The more modern north beach, with hotels and views of the nearby mountains.
And the South beach which is more natural, with lots of beach clubs lining the shore.
What’s a Beach club? I was wondering too, and after some research it’s still a bit unclear to me. It seems Beach Clubs or Stabilimenti are establishments on “private” beaches that charge a fee for chair, umbrella, and use of their services for the day such as restroom, dressing room, and café. I say “private” because the actual shore is usually not owned by the establishment, and I’ve read that the 10 meters of beach starting from the water line is supposed to be free for anyone to walk on. Take that with a grain of salt though, I read it on the internet. In high season chairs are reserved months in advance. So I guess it would be risky to just show up in August or July expecting to find a chair. I’m not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand it’s an extremely civilized way to go to the beach, on the other it’s expensive and exclusionary.
After finding some convenient parking nearby, we quickly found the perfect place to celebrate Mother’s Day in style. There were plenty of adorable restaurants in ivy clad piazzas, but don’t settle, towns like this always have at least a few restaurants with a view.
We settled in for a nice long Italian lunch. I’ve never been a huge seafood fan, but then besides being near the Chesapeake Bay for a few years (but still four hours from the ocean), I’ve never been this close to the sea. Fresh seafood makes all the difference, and I find myself willing to try things I would never have touched before. I eat fresh clams fairly regularly now, and the other day I tried octopus for the first time, which was actually really good and not rubbery or tentacully like I always imagined. So we took advantage of our proximity and ordered dishes like Speghetti alle vongole (spaghetti with clams) and Linguine all’Aragosta (Linguine with Lobster), yum.
We lingered over dessert and mooned over the gorgeous view.
Then we decided to explore the town. Most of what I had read about Sperlonga involved the beach and a few other attractions. Few people mentioned how interesting the historic part of town is. It’s a whitewashed labyrinth of stairways and bridges specked with bright doorways and drying laundry heading in all directions. This is the kind of rustic elegance that cannot be imitated.
We started to walk down to the beach from town, but then we remembered that what climbs down, must climb back up again, and this was a long climb. So we returned to the car and parked on the south side near the beach close to the highway, which was the only free parking we could find. Most of the other parking was for the beach clubs and a few restaurants, and we really didn’t want to risk getting towed.
A three minute walk downhill and we were finally at the beach. The water was an unreal teal blue from above, but up close it was clean and crystal clear. The sand was actual sand, not pebbles or sharp rocks. And the beach itself was barely occupied, even for this warm day. I have no idea if we were trespassing beach club property, if we were no one minded.
Above all, the beach felt tranquil, not just from the sea itself, but from the trees behind us, the town in the distance outlined in the lowering sun, and the green mountains framing us all around. It’s a good place to sit on a rock and contemplate everything and nothing. Of course you can always contemplate the area itself. On the mountain sides above are ruins of some sort of fortress from who knows how long ago, the beach itself has ruins of a building that could be fifty or a thousand years old, but above all is a giant fenced in cave.
This cave is interesting at face value, but it’s impressive because this is where the Emperor Tiberius used to throw parties about two thousand years ago. Now it’s a museum with ancient pools and statues. I really wanted to see it, but we got there too late. All the more reason to go back.
As if we needed a reason to go back. This was a special trip because it was with my Mom, but I also believe it was the beginning of a beautiful beachy daytrip tradition. I’ll definitely be sharing more beach trips in the future.
Ciao!

I’ve already relayed my less than stellar March, but it did end on a very good note.Spring had just arrived, birds were singing, flowers were blooming, the sky was a promising blue, and I was planning our escape mission to redeem my bad month.My only goal was to go somewhere pretty that we haven’t been before.Siena was an easy choice.Less than a three hour drive from Rome, famous city center, doable with an overnight stay, and it’s in the middle of postcard perfect Tuscany.Sold.

Growing up in Texas, I hated roadtrips when I was kid.My parents would drag me and my brother to Austin, Houston, and Galveston on a fairly regular basis to visit family.I loved the destinations, but as a child there was no worse torture than staring out at the fields and trees for hours upon hours, my parents singing to classic rock in the background.It usually ended in my brother and I waging war in the backseat, we were good at that.

In adulthood though, I live for roadtrips.They satisfy my restless nature and remind us there is a world outside our daily bubble.And not to brag, but we’ve gotten really good at them.We know what snacks to bring, which gas station is fastest, which routes to ignore, which overnight bag, and most important – which playlists.So it was cockiness that lead to me forgetting two essential things, my passport and the memory card in my camera.The passport issue was a serious bonehead move.We were able to smooth it out with a photocopy that happened to be in my weekender along with a lot of other identification.(You would never be able to get away with this as a foreign tourist, they want the real thing, I happened to have other Italian identification that helped.)The memory card I’m more upset about because I was taking pictures without it for half a day.Now all of my sunny afternoon pictures of the Tuscan hills and rustic farmhouses are gone.I’m still swallowing this bitter pill, hard lesson learned.All surviving images were captured with phones.

We stayed at Palazzo Ravizza at the edge of the city center.We chose it for the free parking and for the garden with the killer views.Stay here, it’s a vacation in itself.

Our first order of business after checking in was to sit on the terrace and drink wine.Leaving us to talk about silly things and ponder the rugged gentility of the Tuscan terrain. The hills of near vertical farmland, red roofed farmhouses perched precariously above valleys, and gangs of signature Cyprus trees with the distant lavender mountains in the background was just too much.We sat there for over an hour and could have made an entire of trip of just watching the shadows move with the sun.But we had a city to see.

After we pulled ourselves together we strolled through medieval streets to the center.

Navigating narrow alleys we window shopped galleries, grabbed a late afternoon gelato and made a few inquiries about where to buy a memory card (one shop, it was closed.)We ended up in the main town square of Siena called Piazza del Campo.

This huge space is the mother of all piazzas, and as lovely as it is, pictures don’t really do it justice.In the early evenings, people of all ages gather in the cafes, sit on the warm bricks of the center, or simply stroll the perimeter socializing and people watching.It feels more like a park then a piazza.Towering above it all is the Palazzo Publico.

This is unique because most piazzas are centered around a church or a royal palace.This building is the town hall that housed the city’s republican government.The tower was a slightly later addition to the building and was designed to be taller than rival Florence’s tower.

But what makes Piazza del Campo famous is the Palio.Since the 1600s, every July and August the seventeen official neighborhoods or contrade, compete in a barebacked horse race that circles 3 times around the packed piazza. The winner gets a silk banner, bragging rights, and city-wide fame.To see how transformed the piazza is during the palio and get an idea what the race is watch this short video.It also shows a bit of the neighborhood flags and mascots, my favorite is the porcupine.

We joined the crowd for an aperitivo at one of the cafes.

No, we weren’t drinking fanta.If you want to look like a local, (just for pretend, they know you’re a foreigner), order an Aperol Spritz at a café or bar before heading to a restaurant.The unnatural orange color makes it look like it’s syrupy sweet but it’s actually quite dry with just a touch of sweetness.A typical spritz in Italy these days is made with Aperol – an orange flavored bitter light alcohol, prosecco, club soda, ice and an orange slice, sometimes an olive too.It’s cool and refreshing, meant to cleanse your palate before dinner. For more info and recipe click here.

We had dinner at a typical Italian establishment that seemed well liked, and ate too much before promptly passing out.I would like to say that the too big meal and all the wine guaranteed the perfect night’s rest but it didn’t.Bizarrely, half the night groups of teenage girls trotted up and down the street singing and chanting/cheering loudly.I will never know what that was about, but it was entertaining seeing our Italian neighbors yelling and shaking their fists outside their windows.

The next day was another beautiful day.(No rain on this trip, the streak is broken.)I wanted to go straight to the Duomo, but because it was a Sunday, the church wasn’t open to tour until 1:30.No worries though, between the shopping, museums, restaurants, palazzos and cooking classes there is no reason to be bored.So after an impulse pottery purchase we headed a few blocks over back to Palazzo Publico.

Pictures are not allowed inside, which always irks me, but whatever.If you get a chance, check it out.The rooms are a guilded, carved, frescoed, inlaid history lesson.I particularly liked The Allegory of Good and Bad Government, dating back to the 1300s.The fresco depicts good government and its effects, opposite bad government and its effects.Good government is ruled by peace and justice with pretty people dancing in the streets.Bad government is ruled by a horned gentleman sitting on a throne over his companions that are torturing babies and stroking pet serpents, all while the city crumbles.I think we can all agree that is bad government.

We had the option to walk the steps up the tower for a few extra euros.We didn’t because I was impatient to see the church.I regret that now, next time we’re climbing that tower.

We bid farewall for now to the piazza since we planned on leaving after the Duomo.

It’s not the biggest, grandest, or oldest church but I think the Siena Cathedral is my choice for best church at the moment.Worth waiting until 1:30.

Vertical Panorama of the Duomo Interior

The interior is just so dramatic.The marble stripped columns and walls, the intricately inlaid floors, the menacing looking pope busts that look down on you from high above, it’s a lot to take in.My advice is to go slowly and think about everything this nearly 800 year old church has seen.Think crusades, black death, renaissance, reformation, and countless governments.Grim, but the darkness of this church seems to invite thoughts of its past, or maybe it was all the history books I had been reading at the time.

Don’t miss the small entrance on the left side of the cathedral.Through that small door is the entrance to the Piccolomini Library.Small room, covered in bright frescoes and displaying gorgeous hand painted books of psalms.

We had to get back home, so our short trip was over, but we plan on returning.Siena just has this charming polished medieval feel that we want to visit again and again.Next time I’m remembering my memory card….and climbing that tower.

I snapped this last picture before we headed back to our car.

If you care to follow my rants, favorite the page on facebook here, or follow me @100weeksinrome.com on twitter.I broadcast updates there, and some extras too when I remember.Thanks for reading!